[74]
A KING had many wives,
Of whom my first was one;
He spoiled their happy lives,
Apparently for fun.
And some he sent away,
Of home and friends bereft;
Of some, ere they could pray,
The steel my last had cleft.
With each, successively,
The King found some pretext
For banishment; and he
Would then my whole the next.
[75]
A TRAVELER rode hard and fast,
Shivering with cold and dread.
“If I can but reach my first in my last,
I shall then be safe,” he said.
The way was rocky and dark and steep,
My last was flying past;
He sought for an inn where he might sleep,
Sheltered from storm and blast.
He traveled on, through mud and mire,
When, to his great delight,
He saw an inn and a friendly fire,
And went there for the night.